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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28779657">Best Served</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingFicariously/pseuds/WritingFicariously'>WritingFicariously</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blow Jobs, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Dirty Talk, Draco Malfoy &amp; Pansy Parkinson Friendship, F/M, Female Friendship, Fire, Fire Magic, Gansy, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Kink, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Not Epilogue Compliant, Post-Hogwarts, Praise Kink, Revenge, Revenge Sex, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Smut, Spanking, Spells &amp; Enchantments, Swearing, Unconventional Relationship, Wand Play (Harry Potter), Weddings, dramione - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:07:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,937</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28779657</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingFicariously/pseuds/WritingFicariously</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Get it together, Parkinson,” she said to her reflection in the mirror across the lounge. “You are a sexy woman and can have a night of fun. You deserve this.”</p>
<p>* * * * * * * * * *</p>
<p>Months after finding out her boyfriend cheated on her, Pansy Parkinson is ready to make him regret he ever looked at anyone but her. She'll dress like a goddess, show him who's boss, and make him seethe with jealousy. </p>
<p>Or at least, she thinks she will. </p>
<p>Honestly, is it her fault an unexpected acquaintance from the past appears just in time to scramble her brain?</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    
  </p>
</div>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Daphne Greengrass/Harry Potter, Gregory Goyle/Pansy Parkinson, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson/Ron Weasley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>90</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Part One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Ada P Rix somehow got it into my head that Gregory Goyle was a man that needed to be written about - I rolled my eyes, then read her fic, "What He Doesn't Know Won't Hurt Him" and realized she was right. </p>
<p>Thanks to Riverrrr for pre-reading and catching errors. Any mistakes left are my own fault.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="center">
  <hr/>
  <p>Pansy stared at her reflection in the mirror, shifting her eyes to glare at Draco through it as he lounged on the bed behind her in the hotel room. She stepped forward with her right foot and watched as the slit – <em> could it even be called a slit with how wide it was</em>? – stretched tight over her leg, rose higher to settle just below her panty line.</p>
  <p>“You have <em> got </em> to be kidding me.”</p>
  <p>“What?” Draco returned her glare. “I’ll have you know I Portkeyed to the damn States for that dress. <em> For you</em>. And it fits like a damn glove, thank you very much.”</p>
  <p>“It’s <em> indecent</em>!”</p>
  <p>“For you?” he sneered the two words this time before he relaxed his face into a smirk. “Since when?”</p>
  <p>“Since I asked for a dress to wear to Potter’s wedding to our best friend,” she argued. “Not a dress to work the streets of Paris.”</p>
  <p>Draco lifted a finger. “One, that dress should <em> never </em> be worn to work the streets. Perhaps a premier event for one of Zabini’s new ventures.” A middle finger joined his index. “Two, what you <em> requested </em> me to find was a dress that would have the Weasel regretting he ever cheated on you. I’m positive that little number fits the bill.” He switched his fingers so that his last three fingers were up, his thumb and index formed into a circle. “And three, you look bloody fantastic, and you know it.”</p>
  <p>“But –”</p>
  <p>He dropped his hand. “And honestly, woman, do you even know me? Go to the closet and look at the last bag.” He shook his head. “Like I wouldn’t think of everything,” he muttered before raising his voice again. “You’ll turn heads <em> after </em> the ceremony.”</p>
  <p>Just then, a glowing otter bounded into the room, leaving trails of light in its wake. It swirled around his shoulders, frolicking about for a few seconds before it settled on his lap. Draco stared at it patiently. There was an odd scuffling sound that came from it before –</p>
  <p>“Daddy! Mummy needs help with her jul-joooo- her <em> neck </em>-lace.” A soft giggle. “My hands are too small!”</p>
  <p>With a grin at his son’s voice – he could hear the frustration at not being able to say <em> jewelry </em> – Draco stood from the bed and followed the patronus toward the door where it disappeared in wisps of smoke.</p>
  <p>“Pansy, I’m heading back to my room. We’ll meet you by the lift in about 20?”</p>
  <p>“Sure,” Pansy replied as she walked back into the room, this time holding a light charcoal-colored robe, its trim the thinnest line of red fur, the color matching the dress. “Was that Scorp?” she asked distractedly. She slid her arms into the sleeves of the room, and drew the light fabric together above her chest, where she hooked it closed with an enamel red rose. The outer dress robe flowed down her body like a waterfall. “<em>Oh </em> ,” she breathed. She twisted her hips from side to side but even her movements didn’t shift the robe and her bare leg remained covered. “This is <em> perfect</em>.”</p>
  <p>“Of course it is,” Draco scoffed. “Like I’d give Potter a reason to complain about one of us. And yes, that was Scorp. I’ll see you in 20,” he said again. Before ducking out of the room, he winked at his closest friend over his shoulder. “By the way, Hermione’s showing just as much leg, if not more, so you’re fine.”</p>
  <p>When the door <em> snicked </em> shut behind Draco, Pansy turned her attention back to her reflection. She pushed the outer robe back and decided that Draco was right – she <em> did </em> look fantastic and she felt powerful in the dress. A wave of her wand settled her hair and cushioned the sky-high stilettos Draco had thrown – literally <em> thrown </em> – into her hands earlier. The last thing she did was swipe the deep red lipstick over her lips, a color Granger had given her on her last birthday.</p>
  <p>“You’ll wish you still had me,” she spat into the mirror. Her lips curved up into a smirk at the thought of Ronald Weasley falling over himself when he saw her. “Fucker.”</p>
  <p>She met Draco and company in the hallway, cooing over her godson in his adorable dress robes and whistled at Hermione who blushed but nudged Pansy. “You okay?”</p>
  <p>Pansy nodded and let out a breath of nervous air. “Yes. Let’s go.”</p>
  <p>In a show of female solidarity, Hermione transferred Scorpius into Draco’s arms and looped her own arm through Pansy’s. “You look beautiful, by the way,” she said before her face twisted into a look of annoyance. “I hope he chokes when he sees you.”</p>
  <p>As they stepped onto the lift, Pansy raised an eyebrow. “It’s still a shock to see you so angry about your best friend.”</p>
  <p>“Former,” Hermione corrected with a roll of her eyes. “He lost that title when he refused to acknowledge my relationship with Draco. And after what he did to you,” her voice trailed off and Pansy was impressed by the red flush that came over Hermione’s face. Pansy almost expected steam to come out of her friend’s ears. “He could have, well, he didn’t have to be an arse about it.”</p>
  <p>“Bad word, Mummy!” Scorpius said gleefully. “Knut, please!”</p>
  <p>“Daddy will give you one for me, sweetheart,” Hermione said after taking a deep, calming breath. Draco rolled his eyes but quietly promised Scorpius he’d give him <em> three </em> Knuts later since Mummy would probably repeat herself later. “It just drives me mad! <em> He </em> drives me mad! I can’t believe I ever thought he’d be perfect for you! You deserve better,” Hermione huffed. She continued to mumble under her breath, stopping only when Pansy giggled loudly. </p>
  <p>“I don’t even know what you’re saying anymore, Granger.” Hermione glared. “I’m never going to call you Malfoy – you know that.”</p>
  <p>“It’s been years,” she complained. “You could call me <em> Hermione</em>, you know.”</p>
  <p>“I could, but what’s the fun in that when I know how much it bothers you?” Pansy teased good-heartedly. “Besides, your husband still calls you Granger half the time.”</p>
  <p>“Hi guys,” a voice interrupted. The girls looked up to see Neville. “Thought I’d get to you before,” he stopped talking but nodded his head to the other side of the room where Ron was helping greet arriving guests as part of his duty as Harry’s best man.</p>
  <p>“Thanks, Neville,” Pansy said softly. Seeing Ron’s red hair almost made her curl in on herself but Hermione leaned over and whispered words of encouragement. “Right,” she said. “Where do we stand?”</p>
  <p>“This way.” Neville led them to a section near a raised altar, making sure to steer them away from Ron’s view - it wouldn’t do to have a giant argument occur <em> before </em> the ceremony even started. Neville indicated a single silver unlit candle floating by the altar. “Hermione, this one is for you and Draco to start the candle lighting. Harry said he told you when.”</p>
  <p>Hermione was distracted, so it was Draco who answered, “Yes, we know when. Thanks, Longbottom.” After Neville left, Draco nudged his wife with an elbow. “Granger.”</p>
  <p>“Granger,” Scorpius repeated. “That’s Mummy!”</p>
  <p>“He <em> brought </em> her,” Hermione whispered angrily. She pulled Pansy closer and tried to turn her away. “She’s actually <em> here</em>.”</p>
  <p>Draco looked off to the side and followed his wife’s line of sight. When he saw two blonde women - one vaguely familiar from the year the Triwizard Tournament occurred, and the other familiar because of front page news in <em> The Prophet </em> - he promptly deposited Scorpius into his mother’s flailing arm. Instinctively, Hermione let go of Pansy and curled both of her arms around Scorpius, who immediately found the wayward strands of her hair.</p>
  <p>“<em>Draco</em>.”</p>
  <p>He leaned down, placing a hand at the back of Hermione’s neck. “Do <em> not </em> cause a scene. The ceremony is about to start and Potter will never forgive you if you slap his Best Man before he can officially claim Daph.” When she didn’t relax, he continued in a softer plea. “Don’t embarrass Pansy, love.”</p>
  <p>Pansy’s jaw was tense, her teeth clenched as she stared across the room, where Ron walked up to the Delacour sisters, leaning down to buss a kiss onto the shorter one’s cheek. “Four months,” she said lowly. “Barely four months and she’s here with him. He <em> brought </em> her,” she repeated Hermione’s words.</p>
  <p>“Ignore it,” Draco said to them. He shifted and pressed his own kiss onto the side of Pansy’s head. “He’s not worth your attention.”</p>
  <p>“Easy for you to say,” Pansy muttered but diverted her attention to the main door until the lights dimmed, signaling the start of the ceremony.</p>
  <p>For the next half-hour, she watched as Daphne Greengrass married Potter, of all men. She plucked Scorpius from Hermione’s arms right before the curly-haired witch smiled at Harry as she brandished her wand to begin the candle lighting. Next to her, Draco took out his wand and joined it to Hermione’s, the two of them muttering under their breath until a small flame emerged from the tips. Together, they lit the silver candle. In front of them, Harry and Daphne’s faces glowed in the candlelight.</p>
  <p>“May this candle light your new path together,” Hermione said to them. Harry’s eyes gleamed with happiness and he mouthed <em> Thank you, I love you </em> to Hermione before the newly married couple continued to walk a path in front of the crowd, pausing at each hand-picked couple who lit another candle for them. Pansy would have rolled her eyes at the completely Muggle tradition - <em> how did they even learn about it </em> - but instead, her chest tightened. </p>
  <p>Almost a year prior, Daphne had sat down with her and asked her if she would light a candle with Ron during the ceremony, telling her she was the sister who had helped her heal when Astoria had left London after a falling out with their parents. Pansy had said yes, had looked forward to it when she learned all of the couples asked were ones Potter and Daphne believed were ones they trusted inexplicably and who had strong relationships.</p>
  <p>And then Ron had cheated. And gotten caught. The photos of Ron and Gabrielle Delacour were splashed across the front pages of every news and gossip papers - </p>
  <p><em> Engaged War Hero Caught With French Debutante</em>, one had proclaimed even though Pansy had never received a ring.</p>
  <p><em> The Prophet</em>’s headline had been blunt and hurtful: <em> Youngest Weasley Son Trades Death Eater’s Daughter for Younger Beauty</em>.</p>
  <p><em> The End of a Fairy Tale for Parkinson Heiress </em> was one that made Hermione roll her eyes who asked if anything could be a fairy tale with Ron - which then made her apologize to Pansy for an entire dinner.</p>
  <p><em> Parkinson Tossed for Blonde Upgrade: Good Riddance! </em> That was the one Draco had ripped into shreds and thrown into a fire.</p>
  <p>Now, Pansy watched as her ex-boyfriend and <em> bloody Gabrielle Dela-fucking-cour </em> lit a candle together, Ron’s arm around the girl in the glowing room. Pansy ducked her face into Scorpius’ hair, breathing in his sweet toddler scent mixed with the caramel apple candy in his mouth. His hand came up and patted Pansy’s cheek. “Love you, Zizi,” he said quietly, using his nickname for her like he knew she needed to hear those words. She squeezed the little boy in a hug.</p>
  <p>By the time the entire ceremony ended and Daphne and Potter were snogging at the center of the room <em> guests be damned</em>, Scorpius was squirming in her arms to escape her tight hold, and she was ready to lose herself in as much alcohol as she could handle, as much liquor it would take to make her heart stop hurting. When the main lights turned back on, she let Scorpius down, waiting until Hermione had hold of his tiny hand again, before she spun and stalked through the crowd. She briefly stopped at a table that had her name floating above one of the seats and threw her outer robe over her chair. She noted Draco, Hermione, and Scorpius’ names but didn’t bother looking at the rest of the table.</p>
  <p><em> Stupid bloody fucker</em>, she shouted in her mind as she stalked toward one of the bars set around the perimeter of the room. <em> Fucking child tart</em>. Who cared if she was actually of age? She was still six stupid years younger than Pansy which, according to all of the gossip rags, made her an old decrepit woman. <em> Idiot people. Stupid child. Arsehole of a Weasley. </em></p>
  <p>No one was at the bar yet - they were all mingling, trying to congratulate the newlyweds. “Whatever drink you can make with the most alcohol,” she bit out. “<em>Please</em>.”</p>
  <p>With raised eyebrows, the man behind the bar gave her a nod before turning to grab a few bottles. “Champagne’s set if you want something right now,” he said with a tilt of his head to the side. </p>
  <p>“Thanks,” Pansy murmured, grabbing two champagne glasses from a nearby floating tray. She sipped the first glass of bubbly - it was good, clearly expensive - but didn’t bother savoring the second. She was placing the empty flutes onto the bar and reaching for a third when a tall tumbler of light brown liquid appeared before her. “Do I want to know what this is?”</p>
  <p>The bartender shrugged. “Some tea concoction from Muggles, is what they told me, Miss. Has all sorts of alcohol in it, stronger than the wines and whiskey we usually have on hand.”</p>
  <p>“Whatever works.” Pansy shrugged and sampled the drink. She could taste the various liquors in it and rattled them off in her head until her eyes widened. “<em>Oh</em>,” she breathed out. “Keep these coming,” she ordered. She forgot the drink’s name but a memory niggled at her brain, one where Draco had regaled her about a trip he and Granger had taken to MACUSA and the iced tea concoction that had cause Granger to say fuck-all, agreeing to anything Draco wanted that night. Supposedly, their hotel room had cost Draco a pretty penny when even their combined magic couldn’t put it back together again.</p>
  <p>“What’s that?” Hermione’s voice was closer than Pansy expected, causing her to jump. A hand reached out and took the glass from her. Hermione delicately sniffed the drink and raised her eyebrows. “Is that a Long Island?”</p>
  <p>“I think it’s that drink you had with Draco in New York,” Pansy replied, swallowing down half of the tumbler’s contents. “The one that made you –”</p>
  <p>“Made me what?” Hermione asked suspiciously. Her eyes narrowed. “What do you know about New York?”</p>
  <p>“Enough, Granger,” Pansy laughed.</p>
  <p>“I hate that he tells you everything.” Despite the words, Hermione was smiling. “If that’s the same drink, you might want to slow down.” She turned to the bartender, who was finishing up another cocktail, and waited until he turned his attention to her. “Dragon Barrel, neat, and water, please. And another for this one,” she requested, waving a hand at Pansy.</p>
  <p>“Water?” Pansy questioned. Her eyebrows drew together for a moment before her eyes shot down to Hermione’s stomach. “Are you –”</p>
  <p>“No one knows yet,” Hermione said quickly and quietly. “Except Draco.” Her water appeared before her. After glancing around quickly, she waved a hand above the glass and the clear liquid tinted light yellow, making it look more like wine. She watched as the bartender handed Pansy another glass – even larger again – of her drink. “Calm down with those, maybe? Don’t lose your wits just because he’s an inconsiderable pile of owl dung.”</p>
  <p>“I’ll be fine.” Pansy paused and stared at her drink for a moment. She picked the glass up, a bit more slowly this time, and swished the liquid in her mouth for a moment before swallowing. “How long does it take, Granger?” She moved her gaze to her friend, who had a questioning look on her face. “How long does it take until you don’t care anymore?”</p>
  <p>Hermione flinched. “Pansy,” she said softly.</p>
  <p>“I’ll be fine,” she repeated, rapidly finishing off the drink, making Hermione grimace even as she thanked the bartender when he handed her Draco’s drink order. “We’re at the same table,” Pansy said. “I’ll be right there.” Though Hermione hesitated, both women heard Scorpius screech her name. “Your boys are calling.” Pansy nodded to the brandy tumbler in Hermione’s hand. “Go. I promise, I’ll be right there.”</p>
  <p>Pansy finished her drink and turned back around to see a line forming in front of the bar. With a twist of a grimace on her lips, she wondered why bars were even set up – they were wizards and witches, for crying out loud. Shouldn’t drinks just appear at the tables?</p>
  <p>“Damn Muggle ways,” she muttered without malice. She leaned back over the bar and caught the bartender’s attention. “Can I get one more to bring back to my table? Maybe two?”</p>
  <p>He nodded and reached for the bottles he never actually put away. “Is he here?” he asked casually. “The man who hurt you – is he here?”</p>
  <p>Pansy stayed silent for a few beats, opted to watch this stranger’s hands turn bottles and stir concoctions with ice. “Yes,” she finally said.</p>
  <p>“Well, that won’t do,” he replied. He handed her two more tall glasses, each with less ice. “Name’s Dev, Miss. There’s a piece of parchment by your plate, meant to take drink orders throughout dinner. You write my name down and I’ll have another one of these sent over right away. Alright?”</p>
  <p>She blinked at him. “That would... That would actually be <em> fantastic</em>. Thanks Dev.”</p>
  <p>He saluted her with an easy grin and Pansy spun on her heels – what seemed like <em> dangerously </em> high heels now. She frowned and counted the number of drinks she’d already hand in her head. <em> Two glasses of champagne </em> , she thought. <em> One iced tea, two, three... four? </em> She looked down at her hands as she wound around tables with chairs pulled from beneath. <em> Is this my fourth and fifth? Or fifth and sixth? </em> She was still pondering numbers when she arrived at the table, confused when she saw Scorpius standing on the chair holding her robe. At least, the chair she <em> thought </em> her robe had been on when she dumped it earlier.</p>
  <p>“See, Granger?” she asked though confusion laced her words a bit. “Here and safe! Except –”</p>
  <p>“Pansy,” a voice called out to her, one that was vaguely familiar. “Hope you don’t mind that Draco and I shifted your seat.”</p>
  <p>Pansy turned to face a man smiling at her from across the table. Her head tilted to one side as she studied him closely. She tried to place him but her mind was blurry though she wasn’t sure if it was from the alcohol or long-forgotten memories.</p>
  <p>His hair was cut short close to his scalp. A trimmed moustache and beard graced his face, framing full lips that tugged a Hogwarts memory to the front of her mind. His white shirt was stretched taut over broad shoulders and muscled arms, sleeves already rolled up to show off swirls and blocks of blacks and greys. Her eyes focused on his left forearm where Pansy could just make out a greyed-out snake and skull trapped inside a wire cage, escaping birds beating their wings across skin.</p>
  <p>Pansy’s breath hitched. She averted her eyes back to her perusal of the man, following the red tie from a wide chest down past its edge, back to the white shirt that disappeared into the waistband of grey pants, pressed tight enough around firm thighs and –</p>
  <p>It hit her.</p>
  <p>“Goyle?” she asked in disbelief. “<em>Gregory </em> Goyle?”</p>
  <p>“Just Greg is fine,” he said with a wink. “Hey Pans,” he greeted her again, using her old nickname. “Long time,” he began but paused.</p>
  <p>His eyes followed the line of her dress, from the sharp point at the neckline – <em> is it a neckline if it’s nowhere near the neck </em> – down to where her waist nipped in before blooming out in a delicious curve of red roses and gold leaves giving way to tanned skin.</p>
  <p>A smirk curled onto one side of his mouth. “No see,” he finished with darkened eyes focused at the line of muscle defined down the side of her thigh.</p>
  <p>Heat raced up her body at his words, at the look on his face. She lifted one of the glasses to her lips, gulping down its contents to try to cool the flush spreading in her. “Why are you here?” she blurted out before she shook her head, realizing how rude she sounded. “I mean –”</p>
  <p>“Last minute invitation,” he answered with a chuckle in his voice. His eyes moved over her shoulder briefly, but when Pansy looked behind her, she only saw Daphne and Harry surrounded by a group of redheads. “You don’t mind, do you?”</p>
  <p>“What?”</p>
  <p>He indicated the chair next to him. “Don’t really know the others at the table. Thought it would be better to talk to you than,” he squinted at the names still floating, “Luna and Rolf Scamandar?”</p>
  <p>Pansy didn’t even register the names. The way Greg had said <em> talk</em>, the way he had leaned into it, made the blush rise into the apples of her cheeks.</p>
  <p>“I don’t mind,” she finally responded. With a quick glance at Hermione, whose head was against Draco’s shoulder as she snickered Pansy shrugged and made her way to the chair next to Greg. Her hands were still full with her two drinks so she paused by the seat. Greg snapped to attention, lessons from a pureblood childhood entering his brain, and pulled the seat out just enough so she could slide in. He didn’t move his hands after she set the glasses down and leaned back in the chair, and Pansy shivered at cool fingers on her bare back.</p>
  <p>He sat to her left, shifting his chair closer to hers. He nodded at the drinks she had just set down. “Rough go tonight?”</p>
  <p>Pansy shrugged, staring intently at the empty plate in front of her.</p>
  <p>“Gran-Hermione mentioned you might need a... <em> distraction </em> tonight?”</p>
  <p>Pansy lifted her gaze and met Greg’s hazel-green eyes, the pupils dilating the longer he stared her at her. “She said that, did she?” She went to turn her body toward Hermione to ask what she might be playing at, but a heavy weight landed on her exposed thigh, fingers gripping tight. Her body immediately stopped all movement except that she dropped her chin to look at Greg’s hand - large, strong - on her leg.</p>
  <p>His thumb rested on top, his fingers curled around the inner curve of her thigh. She watched, mesmerized, as he slid his palm up against smooth skin. “Is she right?” Greg dropped his tone to an icy burn, an even, steady question that dipped into the pit of her stomach. “Do you need a distraction?”</p>
  <p>Pansy swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. Her eyes stayed on his hand, gripping tight and releasing in pulsing intervals. “What if I did?”</p>
  <p>Vaguely, she heard Luna and Rolf arrive at the table with their two boys who squealed when they saw Scorpius. She heard Hermione’s laugh and she heard her name being called repeatedly. “Pansy. Pans! Merlin, she’s a goner. Pansy!”</p>
  <p>“What?” She felt like she was breaking the surface of the Black Lake back at school, like there had been a fog over her and she only just managed to escape. She turned her head to see Hermione laughing into the palm of her hand and Draco pursing his lips at her with raised eyebrows. “Yes?”</p>
  <p>“Dinner?” Draco drawled. He nodded to the plates in front of everyone that were currently filling with salads. “Thought you might want to fill up some.” He snickered into a closed fist. </p>
  <p>“Thanks,” Pansy said dryly.</p>
  <p>She picked up her fork with the rest of the table, finally acknowledging the Scamandars with a <em> hello </em> and a nod. Just as she went to take a bite, she froze at a finger tracing a circle on her inner thigh, moving higher with every loop. Letting out a cough to hide any other sound, Pansy snapped her legs together, groaning when she realized she stupidly trapped Greg’s hand between her legs. Greg’s hand that was currently moving against the silk of her panties, so close that she could feel the side of his finger finding her slit. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip as she felt herself getting wet with each stroke.</p>
  <p>“You okay?” Hermione asked her. The look of concern on her face was real and all Pansy could do was nod. “You sure?”</p>
  <p>“Fine,” she finally managed to croak out. She grabbed one of her glasses, drinking deeply from it until all that was left were small pieces of clinking ice. “Sorry, got distracted.” She cringed slightly at the word. “Did you ask something?”</p>
  <p>Hermione launched into conversation but Pansy tuned her out as she concentrated on trying to eat her salad. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hermione lift Scorpius onto her lap so he could eat off of her plate. Draco was, surprisingly, having a light-hearted argument with Luna, while Rolf tried to keep his sons in their seats.</p>
  <p>“Have I already lost your attention?” Greg’s voice caressed her ear, the breath from his words tickling her hair. “That would be a shame, don’t you think?”</p>
  <p>Pansy shifted in her seat, scooting her butt toward the edge the slightest bit. Next to her, Hermione paused in lifting her own fork to her mouth and glanced over at the dark-haired woman next to her. Pansy tried to control her breathing.</p>
  <p>She moved her left leg slightly, just enough that Greg’s hand could move a little more, could trace the seam of her knickers. He found a small patch - <em> a triangle</em>, he smirked to himself - of short curls and ran the pad of his index finger over it, scratching lightly until Pansy couldn’t stop the shiver from running through her body.</p>
  <p>Hermione put her fork down and sipped her tan-tinted water while she stared at Pansy over the rim of the glass.</p>
  <p>Ignoring the sharp gaze, Pansy lifted her hips beneath the table. Her lips parted when Greg’s finger slid down, <em> down </em>, until she could feel herself coating him with the slickness of her arousal. She let out a shuddering breath of air, reaching down to press sharp nails into the flesh of Greg’s exposed arm.</p>
  <p>Greg didn’t stop the slow and shallow thrust of his finger inside her, but he did clear his throat before he began a conversation with Rolf fucking Scamandar, who Pansy had never hated until that very moment. While the two men chatted, Pansy gripped the edge of her chair, circling her hips as discreetly as she could, trying to move lower so Greg could push deeper inside, or give her a second finger.</p>
  <p>He stopped moving. Pansy’s body tensed in confusion. She saw a glass slide closer to her plate and looked over to see Hermione pushing her drink over with a blank look on her face.</p>
  <p>“You look flushed, Pansy,” she said lowly, angling Scorpius away from seeing Pansy. “Have a drink.”</p>
  <p>With a curt nod, Pansy grabbed the glass, her fingers slipping against the condensation. She brought the glass to her mouth, parting her lips to sip.</p>
  <p>And then Greg tapped against her clit. Pansy almost dropped the glass. She felt the <em> tap ... tap ... </em>before his finger pressed down. Hard. The only thing Pansy could do was drain her glass. Again.</p>
  <p>“Why don’t I get you another drink?” Greg asked suddenly. Abruptly, he removed his hand from Pansy’s body, from beneath her dress. He leaned in. “You look like you could use another one. Maybe something lighter?” His eyes glinted. “I like my women relaxed but still coherent, after all.” </p>
  <p>When he stood, Pansy tilted her head to watch him. He laid a hand on her shoulder and she could feel the wetness of herself press into her skin from his finger.</p>
  <p>
    <em> Jesus. </em>
  </p>
  <p>“Be good while I’m gone,” Greg told her, giving her a smile. The grin though disappeared when he looked down to see the rounded curves of her tits heaving as she tried to get her breathing under control. Greg licked his bottom lip. “Or don’t.” He brought his hand up and swiped his index finger at the corner of his mouth. “<em>Definitely </em> don’t.”</p>
  <p>He disappeared from her view and Pansy sat back in her chair, letting out a deep breath, practically gasping for air. Hermione stared at her with wide eyes from her right side. She interrupted Draco’s argument with Luna, harshly whispered, “Draco Malfoy, if you don’t take your son <em> right now </em> , you <em> will </em> be at the reception desk asking for another room before the night is over.” As soon as Scorpius was out of her arms, she stood and pulled Pansy up. “I need the loo. Let’s go, Pansy.”</p>
  <p>As soon as they were in the restroom near the lobby of the hotel, Hermione waved her wand and murmured a spell to let her know if anyone approached. She whirled around and pointed her wand in Pansy’s direction.</p>
  <p>“Tell me I wasn’t dreaming!” she hissed excitedly, even though no one was in the room with them. “Tell me that Gregory Goyle - and who the bloody hell knew he’d become a mountain of hot man! - <em> was</em>, in fact, getting you off at our dinner table!”</p>
  <p>Pansy blushed and looked down, suddenly feeling shy.</p>
  <p>“<em>PANSY! </em>”</p>
  <p>“<em>Yes</em>! Yes, okay? That was happening but I... I don’t know what is <em> actually </em> happening,” Pansy moaned. She grabbed the back of one of the chaise lounges in the sitting room where they were. “This isn’t like me. What is happening?”</p>
  <p>Hermione eyed her friend. “I would say what’s happening is an incredibly <em> fit </em> man wants you and it seems you want him too. Right?”</p>
  <p>“I don’t know,” Pansy admitted. “It’s... It’s <em> Goyle</em>.”</p>
  <p>“Thought he told you to call him Greg?” Hermione couldn’t help but tease. When Pansy shot her a dangerous look, Hermione held up her hands. “Sorry, sorry.” She paused again. “What’s going through your mind right now?”</p>
  <p>“Honestly?” Pansy asked. “I’m trying to figure out when the hell Greg turned into, well, <em> that</em>.” She gestured toward the door. She walked around the chaise and sat. “I don’t even remember seeing him after the Battle. He was there, at Hogwarts, for all of 7th year, flaunting that Dark Mark to anyone who cared - and even people who <em> didn’t </em> care. Then that final day happened and he just... disappeared. I haven’t thought of him since.”</p>
  <p>Hermione gave her an even look. “He’s kept in touch with Draco a bit - said he needed to get away and reevaluate his life or something. That’s what Draco says, anyway. He’s definitely changed.”</p>
  <p>“Yeah,” Pansy said slowly. She brought a finger up to her shoulder where Greg had left remnants of her arousal on her skin. “I don’t know what came over me, honestly,” she confessed. “I’ve never done something like that but I just wanted him.” She patted her cheeks. “You don’t think my drinks have been laced with anything, do you?”</p>
  <p>“Only the copious amounts of alcohol that are doing their job.” Hermione rolled her eyes before she grabbed Pansy’s wrists and pulled her back up. She gave her a once-over. “Take your knickers off.”</p>
  <p>“What?” Pansy did a double-take.</p>
  <p>“Take them off,” she repeated, slower this time, as though Pansy hadn’t understood her.</p>
  <p>“Why in the world would I -”</p>
  <p>“Was his hand not up you -”</p>
  <p>“Granger!”</p>
  <p>“Since when have you been such a prude?” Hermione argued. “Take them off already. We’ve been in here long enough. He’s probably back at the table.” She paused and placed a hand on her stomach. “Also, I’m hungry and it’s supposed to be lamb for the main dish, so please hurry up and take off your pretty little knickers - don’t give me that look, we both like pretty things - so we can get back.”</p>
  <p>Pansy pulled her hands away from Hermione’s grip. “Give me a few minutes.”</p>
  <p>“Just take them off! Hurry up. He’s probably back at the table.” She paused. “Pansy.”</p>
  <p>“You go.” She held up a hand when Hermione opened her mouth to argue. “I’ll be right there. I just need to get myself together.”</p>
  <p>This time, Hermione stopped to place a hand on Pansy’s arm gently. “You sure? You don’t have to actually -”</p>
  <p>“Do you know how long it’s been, Granger?” Pansy blinked wide eyes at her. “I don’t <em> have </em> to but Merlin help me, I <em> want </em> to and if that man out there is offering, I’m not going to say no. It's just... Ron <em> brought </em> her, Granger, and they lit that stupid candle together when that should have been <em> me </em> next to him. So do I want a man as fit as Gregory Goyle to basically fuck me through the floor? Yes. I just need to get myself together and remind myself I wasn’t the reason Ron cheated.”</p>
  <p>She took a giant breath after her rant, and made a strangled noise when Hermione pulled her into a tight hug. “Take your time. I’ll cover for you until you’re ready.”</p>
  <p>Pansy disentangled herself. “You’re so emotional, Granger,” she said but she was grateful for Hermione’s understanding. She waited until Hermione left before she whispered, “Thanks.”</p>
  <p>Now alone in the lounge, Pansy worked on calming her mind and body. She hadn’t lied when she said it had been a while. It may had been four months since Ron cheated on her but they had been arguing for months before then and Pansy had held sex from him during their more explosive fights. In retrospect, that was probably a bad idea. But she hadn’t been with anyone since then, couldn’t handle the emotions that usually came with sex for her. She cursed the fact that she was never into the idea of one-night stands.</p>
  <p>Until now.</p>
  <p>She could do it - let Gregory Goyle fuck her for a night and walk away satisfied. And she <em> knew </em> she’d be satisfied. He was large, foreboding, almost dangerous with the way his eyes dared her to defy him and that smirk that was possibly sexier than the Malfoy smirk. Just Greg’s hand on her thigh had sent spirals of heat through her and having a finger - <em> one bloody finger </em> - touching her had told her he was in charge and would bring her to heights of passion in a way that Ronald Weasley had never been able to do.</p>
  <p>“Get it together, Parkinson,” she said to her reflection in the mirror across the lounge. “You are a sexy woman and can have a night of fun. You <em> deserve </em> this.” She thought about seeing Ron across the room, at the way he had the blonde bint tucked into his side, and her anger flared. She took a deep breath and reached under her dress, sliding the thin panty down her legs and tossing it into a garbage bin. A quick adjustment of the dress and she was once again completely covered by the red material of the dress.</p>
  <p>With a renewed sense of confidence, Pansy practically stomped out of the restroom, flinging open the door and marching out, only to find herself slammed against the wall in the small hallway. Hands circled her wrists and held them at her side. </p>
  <p>“What –”</p>
  <p>“Weren’t running away, were you?” Greg’s voice was suddenly in her ear, a low growl laced with a hint of irritation. “Hermione said you needed a moment.” He tightened his grip on her, pressed his body onto hers so she could feel every inch of him. “Thought I’d take a moment as well.”</p>
  <p>“I –”</p>
  <p>Her voice broke off when Greg slid a knee between her legs, caging her bare thigh between his own. He trailed a hand up her arm, over her shoulder, and across her neck to cup the underside of her face. His fingers squeezed lightly, just enough that the pressure made Pansy’ breath hitch. “Do you know how fucking sexy you are?” he groaned. “Of course you do. Draco told me about getting this dress for you.” He leaned in and ran his nose up her jawline, inhaling her scent. “Was he telling me the truth about what you want tonight?”</p>
  <p>“What?” Pansy tried to unscramble the thoughts in her brain - <em> what did Draco say, what was Greg expecting, what is happening </em> - but she could only concentrate on the hand wrapped around her throat, the hand pinning her hand against the wall, the body undulating against hers.</p>
  <p>“Weasley’s a fucking idiot,” Greg spat out harshly. The words exploded against her face, that spot right in front of her ear that was always so sensitive, and Pansy gave a full body shudder. “I’m not, though. Not anymore.”</p>
  <p>He let go of her neck and trailed his large hand down to her breasts, filling his palm with the curves. His thumb and forefinger pinched her nipple through the fabric of her dress, making Pansy cry out at the slight pain. Greg continued his downward path, tugged playfully at the roses on her hip, before he once again met the smooth planes of her upper thigh. He rocked his left leg between her legs as his right hand drifted up beneath her dress. He stopped when he reached the crease of her leg, spanning his hand out, until he narrowed his eyes as his thumb met the damp skin of her pussy.</p>
  <p>“What’s this?” he asked, sliding his thumb up and down. Pansy tried to shift, attempted to spread her legs wider, but Greg <em> tsk </em>ed at her and lifted his leg, lifting her up off the floor as he used the wall as leverage against his knee. Pansy found herself sitting on his knee, the toes of her heels barely skimming the floor. She gasped as the rough material of his pants pressed against her cunt and sent pinpricks of pleasure up her spine. </p>
  <p>“I <em> distinctly </em> remember a pair of knickers here just a few minutes ago.” His thumb circled her clit, his fingers dipping inside her, shallow at first like before, until Pansy reached up to grab the back of his neck so she could lift her hips higher, giving him more access to her body. “Wanted this, did you?” Greg asked as she writhed against him, keening for him to <em> deeper, please </em> . He let out a dark chuckle at her pleas. “<em>Dirty girl</em>.”</p>
  <p>“Ye-yes,” Pansy managed to cry out. Her hand pulled at his neck until he lowered it closer to her face. She buried her face in his neck, gasping out hot pants of air against his skin. She felt him sink his fingers deeper inside her and muffled a cry into the curve of his neck and shoulder. </p>
  <p>“Were you so wet you needed to get rid of your knickers?” he growled out in question. </p>
  <p>She didn’t answer. </p>
  <p>He didn’t expect her to.</p>
  <p>“Were you thinking of me like this - fucking you with my fingers? Because I’ll fuck you until you can’t move anymore. Is that what you want?”</p>
  <p>This time, he wanted an answer.</p>
  <p>She gave one. </p>
  <p>“Yes. <em> Please. </em>”</p>
  <p>He finally let go of her wrist against the wall, placed it on her hip to push her harshly against the wall. He moved his leg to give his hand more room to thrust into her at a rapid pace. He smirked when her head fell backwards, hitting the wall with a soft <em> thud</em>.</p>
  <p>The sound of laughter filtered into their hidden space and Pansy’s body tensed up. She had forgotten they were in a public space, right next to the main lift. <em> Shit. </em></p>
  <p>“Ignore them,” Greg demanded. “I’m the only one that matters right now.” He moved his hand, kept his fingers deep, cupped her in his palm. “<em>Look at me. </em>”</p>
  <p>Pansy’s eyes snapped open.</p>
  <p>“Good girl.” Greg drew his fingers away from her body and back in slowly, almost excruciatingly slow, holding Pansy’s gaze with each stroke. “Is this what you want?” Pansy shook her head from left to right to left to right. Her eyes, shiny with need, begged him. “No?” He bared his teeth at her in a grin that made heat coil low in her belly. “Tell me what you want then.”</p>
  <p>She said nothing, only tilted her hips up, leaning her shoulders back against the wall, feeling its rough texture scratch against her skin. With a raised eyebrow, Greg pulled his fingers out of her completely. She whimpered at how empty she suddenly felt - so fucking empty. Slick fingers - <em> that’s me</em>, she thought - grabbed her cheeks roughly, pushing her mouth into a pout.</p>
  <p>“Don’t make me ask again,” he warned. When she still said nothing, only stared at him, his grip tightened and Pansy felt her eyes start to water. He tapped a finger on her cheek, just beneath her eye, in warning.</p>
  <p>“Fuck me,” she said quietly. </p>
  <p>Greg loosened his grip at the sound of her voice. Instead of the harsh hold, Pansy felt his fingers stroke her cheeks down to her chin. He let his fingers dance down the column of her neck, a silent praise.</p>
  <p>“Louder.” </p>
  <p>His hand was loose around her neck, but Pansy could imagine the pads of his fingers pressing down, could imagine how they might leave bruises that would stain her skin with pretty purple and blue blooms.</p>
  <p>Yes, that’s what she wanted.</p>
  <p>“Fuck me,” she said louder, clearer. She lifted her chin in a challenge and Greg’s grin widened at the strength in her voice. “I want you. To. Fuck. Me.” </p>
  <p>“That’s a good girl,” he praised her again. His hand was moving again, this time to her mouth, where he pushed two fingers between her lips. She could taste herself on his skin and she sucked greedily until he pushed deeper, <em> deeper </em>, almost too deep, until she gagged. “That’s right, you can take it, can’t you? I can’t wait to fuck your pretty mouth, Pansy. Do you want that?” She moaned around his fingers, even as he put pressure on her bottom lip, forcing Pansy to open her mouth. His eyes flashed dangerously. “Gonna need to open wider to take me.”</p>
  <p>The words - <em> the warning? </em> - made her shiver, scattered any thoughts that were left in her head. She flinched a bit when Greg lifted his leg and pushed her hip down so she was, once again, flush against his thigh. The rough fabric rubbed against her and she felt herself rock against Greg, trying to find a release. She reached up with her free hand to grab his forearm. As she writhed on top of his thigh, her nails made crescent-shaped marks on the birdcage tattoo.</p>
  <p>“<em>Pansy? </em>”</p>
  <p>The sound of her name shocked her into stillness. She gripped Greg harder - around his neck, on his arm - and slowly turned her head. Greg slid his fingers out of her mouth, moving them to rest above the swells of her breasts. He, too, looked over, irritation at the interruption evident on his face.</p>
  <p>Ron Weasley, red hair mussed and dress robes open to reveal a tuxedo shirt, stood at the end of the short hallway, staring into the small alcove by the restrooms. His eyes were wide, shocked, but he also couldn’t help but let his gaze rove over his former girlfriend. </p>
  <p>“What are you looking at, Weasley?” Greg asked in a flat tone. </p>
  <p>Ron shook himself out of a trance and sputtered, “What the hell is going on?”</p>
  <p>“Well, I’d think it was obvious, but then again, it’s possible you just don’t know what a woman looks like when she’s about to come.” </p>
  <p>“That’s -”</p>
  <p>“<em>Actually </em> come, Weasley. As in, <em> not faking it</em>.”</p>
  <p>Ron’s face twisted into a sneer and Pansy could see the anger roll through him. He stepped closer and closer to them until he stopped mere feet away. He stared at Pansy, blue eyes filled with a mixture of hatred and lust. He let his gaze fall to where she sat on Greg, her feet still dangling above the floor, and Pansy knew he could see the way she had rubbed and made a wet spot on Greg’s pants.</p>
  <p>“Is that what you’ve been saying?” Ron scoffed, eyes still focused on the space between her legs. “That you’ve always faked it? We both know what you were like, Pansy - a fucking slut for it.”</p>
  <p>The air suddenly felt warm, like a fire was reaching out from the walls surrounding them. </p>
  <p>“What did you just call her?” Greg asked, the words coming out low, dangerous.</p>
  <p>“What she seems to be – a fucking <em> slut</em>,” he repeated.</p>
  <p>Far more gently than she would have expected, considering the situation, Greg grabbed hold of Pansy’s waist and set her down as he stepped away from her. He flicked a wrist and the wand that had been holstered near his waist was suddenly in his hand and pointed at Ron. When Pansy tried to keep him back, he easily shrugged out of her grip and took measured steps to the redhead. He held his wand steady and though he hadn’t said a word, Pansy gasped when she saw Ron’s body stiffen as if he had frozen.</p>
  <p>“<em> She’s </em> the slut?” Greg narrowed his eyes as he stepped into Ron’s space. They were about the same height, but Greg was bulkier, more muscled than Ron’s lean figure, and it felt like he took up the whole room at the moment. “Last <em> I </em> heard, Weasley, <em> you </em> were the one who couldn’t keep your small dick in his pants.” He glanced down and smirked before looking over his shoulder at Pansy, who was watching them in trepidation. “You don’t have to lie for him. I’ve already heard it. From <em> several </em> women.”</p>
  <p>“What?” Pansy blinked her eyes.</p>
  <p>“Oh, yes,” Greg said. “It was more than just the Delacour girl.” He turned back to Ron, whose face was paling. “Isn’t that right? Does your latest lady know about the others?” Ron’s mouth was moving but no sound came out. Greg shrugged and flicked his wand again. </p>
  <p>“-dare you! Who the hell do you think you are, Goyle? No one! You’re fuc-”</p>
  <p>Greg reached forward and grabbed one side of Ron’s robes in his left fist, pulling his still-frozen body in. “Gabrielle Delacour. Anastasia Kurev. Ophelia Tanden. <em> Astoria Greengrass</em>.” Behind him, Pansy took in a shuddering breath. “I know all about them, Weasley. Do they know about each other, do you think? I know at least one does and it won’t take much for me to fill in the others.”</p>
  <p>“Like they’ll believe someone like <em> you</em>.” Ron rolled his eyes, annoyance melting with fear at the names.</p>
  <p>“Of course they will,” Greg promised with a hard look. He leaned in closer, his nose practically touching Ron’s angrily. “I’m a fucking <em> Inquiry</em>, Weasley.” When Ron paled even more, Greg let out a laugh that bordered on sinister. “Say another word about Pansy - a <em> single </em> word about her - and I <em> will not </em> hesitate to ruin your life.” He let go of Ron and muttered under his breath just as he shoved him so he stumbled backwards. Greg shook his head and slid his wand back into its holster. “You’re not even worth it.”</p>
  <p>He turned to walk back to Pansy. Before he could take a step, he felt Ron attempt to grab his shoulder. Instinctively, Greg whipped around and let a closed fist fly towards Ron’s face. He saw the skin of Ron’s cheek split open, could hear the sound of bones cracking. A loud shout escaped Ron’s mouth as he fell to the ground, his words a bumbling of obscenities.  He tried to stand.</p>
  <p>“Stay the fuck down,” Greg ordered, shaking his hand out. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay the hell on that floor until we’re gone. And you <em> won’t </em> breathe a word about what you’ve seen or done tonight.”</p>
  <p>Pansy walked to the two men, sliding a hand around Greg’s bicep. Her dress was too tight for a wand but she concentrated on Ron and held out her right hand. “<em>Episkey.</em>” Ron yelped as the bones in his nose fused back together. He glared up at Pansy but she kept her face blank. “Clean yourself up, Ronald, and don’t be a fool at your best friend’s wedding.”</p>
  <hr/>
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<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Part Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm sorry this took so long, but here it is - the second and final part of this little smutty fic.</p><p>I hope Ada P Rix is fine wherever she is. Not sure if she'll ever see this, but thank you for getting me back into writing fan fic and introducing me to the glory that is an adult Gregory Goyle.</p><p>Thanks to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lostinthenightrain">Lostinthenightrain</a> for pre-reading and <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/riverrr/">Riverrr</a> for the (quick) beta. All remaining errors on my own.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><hr/><p>“Please tell me that you at least came before the bloody Weasel showed up,” Draco said in a flat tone. </p><p>Pansy glared at the dance floor until a drink appeared in front of her. She took it from Draco and gulped, sputtering when Firewhiskey raced down her throat. She coughed and turned her glare to her best friend. “Fuck, warn a girl! And <em>no,</em> I did <em>not.</em> <em>Asshole.</em>”</p><p>Draco leaned against the bar as he sipped at his brandy. “Are we talking about Weasley or Gregory at this point of the conversation?”</p><p>
  <em> “He didn’t touch me at all during dinner!” </em>
</p><p>“Of which I am incredibly grateful,” Draco said. “Considering my child was right there.”</p><p>Pansy rolled her eyes. “Please. He was fine. Granger wouldn’t have let him see anything.” She took a deep breath before downing the rest of the Firewhiskey. “He didn’t do <em> anything,” </em> she complained. “And he <em> knew </em>I didn’t have my knickers on!”</p><p>Draco’s eyes fell shut and he brought his glass up to his forehead. “Merlin, help me ignore the things I do not need to know.”</p><p>“And now he’s dancing with Astoria! <em> Astoria, </em> who was the one who invited him to this wedding! Did you know that?” Draco’s eyes popped open at her question and he sighed while nodding. “Astoria Greengrass, who <em> hired him as an Inquiry!” </em> </p><p>“Yes, well -”</p><p>“Astoria Greengrass, who was having a relationship with my former boyfriend <em> while he was my current boyfriend </em>!”</p><p>“Yes, I heard him at -”</p><p>“Astoria Greengrass, who invited him and is dancing with him and is probably going to fuck him later even though <em> it was me </em>he had against the wall not even an hour ago!”</p><p>“Pansy -”</p><p><em> “Pansy.” </em> </p><p>Both Pansy and Draco turned to see Greg suddenly standing next to them. His eyes were dark, anger evident on his face, and his lips were pressed into a thin line. </p><p>“<em> Goyle,” </em> Pansy sneered before turning back to Draco. A hand plucked her glass from her hand and set it on the bar. “Hey!”</p><p>“Dance with  me,” Greg said tersely. She didn’t respond and Greg’s hand waited in front of her, palm up. Next to them, Draco raised his eyebrows and watched. Greg leaned down when Pansy still didn’t speak or move. “It wasn’t a request, Pansy.”</p><p>Something in his tone set excitement racing through her, but she tried not to react. One look at Draco’s smirk told her she wasn't successful. Slowly, Pansy brought her hand up, slid her palm against his, until his fingers curled around hers. He spun her and began to walk toward the dance floor. A look over her shoulder saw Draco lifting his glass, this time to tilt it toward her in a salute.</p><p>Greg led her to a corner of the dance floor, slightly away from the crowd of people. A slower song played so his hands drifted to her hips, moving around to her back where he settled them right at the base of her spine. Pansy wrapped her arms over his shoulders and laced her fingers behind his neck.</p><p>“You gonna tell me what the fuck is up your arse?” He smirked at her and let a hand drift down to tap at the rounded curves he mentioned, laughing when she reached behind to slap his arm away. “Cause it sure as hell isn’t me. Not yet, anyway.”</p><p>“At this rate, you’re never getting there,” she muttered darkly.</p><p>Greg raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”</p><p>Pansy stayed silent but swayed back and forth with him. She glared at his chest - <em> his stupid muscled ches </em>t - and ignored him as best she could while dancing with him. She looked up only when the song ended and switched to something with a heavier beat. His face was blank, giving none of his thoughts away.</p><p>“So you’re an Inquiry.” He raised an eyebrow at her. He’d already given the table an entire rundown of what he’d been up to since the final Battle, including how he’d come into his career. Pansy rolled her eyes. “And you... Worked for Astoria Greengrass.”</p><p>“Astoria hired me, yes.” He gave her a pointed look, but laughed - an amused deep laugh - when Pansy’s lips formed a sneer at the name. “Never thought I’d say this, but green isn’t your color anymore.” </p><p>“You think I’m <em> jealous </em> ?” she spat. It didn’t matter that she was - <em> just a teeny little bit - </em> but she wasn’t about to admit it. Greg stayed silent, slowing his movements, until he was barely moving. Pansy turned her face, trying to find a point of focus that <em> wasn’t </em> Gregory Goyle. To her chagrin, it was the gaze of Astoria Greengrass that caught her attention, and the younger girl sent a smile her way, a knowing look in her eyes. She knew she stared too long when Greg leaned down, his lips touching the top of her ear. </p><p>“Sure you’re not jealous?”</p><p>Pansy pulled away and glared. “Oh, fuck off.”</p><p>When she turned to walk away, Greg wrapped a hand around her elbow and pulled her back against him, spinning her back around. His voice was low so no one would hear him but her. “What the hell is your problem? And don’t say <em> nothing, </em> I’m not an idiot.”</p><p>Pansy took a deep breath. “Are you here with Astoria?”</p><p>Greg’s face twisted into a grimace. “What?”</p><p>“Are. You. Here. With. Astoria?” She punctuated each word harshly, jabbing a finger to the middle of his chest until he grabbed it. “Well?”</p><p>He scoffed at her. “You think I’m the type of guy to fuck someone against a wall while I’m here with another woman?” Greg let go of her hand and this time, he was the one who stepped away from Pansy. “Don’t think much of me, then, do you?”</p><p>“I don’t <em> know </em>you now,” Pansy hissed angrily. “For all I know, you’re just like -”</p><p>Greg’s eyes narrowed. “I’m going to say this once - <em> once </em> - and you’re going to listen and decide what you want.” He glanced around and noticed a few other guests glancing at the two of them. He pulled at Pansy’s elbow and led her to a nearby corner where there were less people. </p><p>“I don’t play games - not like the ones Weasley did. You want me to tie you to the bed? Spank you until your arse is as red and bruised as the fucking Gryffindor colors? Fuck your throat until you can’t breathe? I’ll do that, but I’ll only do that with <em> one witch </em> at a time. I don’t fucking cheat. I’ve seen enough of that in my line of work. You want a fucking good time tonight? I’ll give it to you. You want to compare me to that bastard ex of yours? I followed that fucker for almost an entire <em> year </em> to find out everything I did. <em> I’m not him. </em>”</p><p>Pansy stared at him, held his gaze. She tried not to let him see how his words affected her. The scenarios he laid out for her mixed with Ron’s voice in her mind saying “It was only once” and “I was drunk” and “Come off it, Pans, we haven’t had sex in Merlin knows how long, what else was I to do?”</p><p>It was too much all at once - the fire running through her veins, Astoria’s look - <em> did she just wink, </em>Hermione’s concerned gaze from across the room.</p><p>“I have to go,” she said, her voice softer than it had been. She pulled away from Greg’s hold and spun away. </p><p>“Pansy!” Greg called after her, but she ignored him.</p><p>Out on one of the balconies, Pansy curled her fingers around the railing, squeezing so tight, she knew she would find lines on her palms when she let go. She breathed in deeply, counting to eight as she exhaled, trying to calm the uncertainty in her mind, the thudding of her heart.</p><p>She thought she was ready for something, thought she knew what she wanted.</p><p>Maybe she didn’t know.</p><p>The air was muggy around her, but she ignored the call of using a cooling spell. The heat pressed against her, made her focus on breathing steadily to cool herself down naturally. After what felt like hours but was probably only minutes, she heard footsteps behind her. </p><p>“What’s that Muggle saying? Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.”</p><p>Pansy’s breath hitched. “Ron.”</p><p>He didn’t say anything more, so Pansy turned around slowly to face him. His face was cleaned up from the fight earlier though she could see tiny specks of blood on the collar of his shirt. She wondered why he didn’t clean it.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>Ron huffed out a laugh. “Just checking on you.” His lip curled into a sneer. “How’s it feel? To know you’ve been used and thrown away?”</p><p>Pansy felt the anger rise again and she tensed. “When you did it to me? I don’t remember. I stopped caring.” When she tried to walk past him, he tried to grab her arm to stop her, but Pansy side-stepped around him and shoved him against the wall. “Leave me alone, Ronald. I don’t need anything from you. I don’t <em> want </em>you.”</p><p>With a new type of fire in her step, Pansy stalked back into the ballroom and let her eyes roam the entire room.</p><p>There.</p><p>Greg was speaking to Daphne and Harry, Astoria and the Malfoys next to them. She made her way to the group, smiling widely - possibly a bit <em> too </em> widely - at the newlyweds.</p><p>“Daphne, congratulations,” she said in a controlled tone. “Potter.” She made a face. “Ugh, you’re both Potters.”</p><p>Harry smiled bemusedly at her but graciously thanked her.</p><p>“It’s been a lovely party. Can I steal one of your guests? Thank you.”</p><p>She didn’t wait for an answer, but ran a hand down Greg’s arm and laced her fingers with his. Without another word, she began to walk away. Though he easily could have stopped her or refused to follow, Greg instead saluted the group and let Pansy lead him out of the ballroom. She stopped only when they were in the main lobby of the hotel once more.</p><p>Greg said nothing, waiting.</p><p>Pansy took in a deep breath before lifting her chin to meet his gaze. Her eyes were wide. She parted her lips.</p><p>“Will you really do everything you said?”</p><p>Greg raised an eyebrow in question, but kept his face blank.</p><p>“Because I want it,” she said in a strong voice, though she kept it low so no one else would hear her. “I want to take you in my mouth until my throat is sore. I want you to fuck me until I know I’ll feel you tomorrow and the day after, when you’re gone. I want all of that. I want you.”</p><p>Greg’s eyes flashed dangerously at her words. He unlaced their fingers and brought the hand up to the base of her throat, spreading his fingers over her clavicle. He pressed down briefly, watching her skin turn white around his fingers.</p><p>“Are you staying at this hotel?” he asked gruffly. She nodded. “Did you ask for the apparition allowance?” </p><p>“Yes.” Her voice held strong though she knew Greg could feel her pulse beating faster beneath his fingertips.</p><p>His wand seemed to appear out of nowhere but he handed it to her. “Then bring us up to your room, Pansy. Now.”</p><p>Pansy shut her eyes and reached up to grasp Greg’s wrist. It wasn’t always easy using another person’s wand, but she concentrated and heard the tell-tale <em> crack </em>of apparating. The air swirled around them and she soon felt the warmer air of a smaller room. </p><p>Her back slammed against the wall. Greg’s hand was still at her throat, but his left hand hand reached behind her head so she wouldn’t hit it as well. He leaned down and covered her mouth with his, stealing gasps from her. Pansy moaned into his mouth, the sound making Greg press his body harder against hers, until she had to pull away from the kiss in order to catch her breath. </p><p>“Is this what you want?” he asked, stroking his fingers up and down her neck. </p><p><em> “Yes,” </em> she answered, a plea in her voice. </p><p>Greg pulled away from her then, and took a step back. Another step. Another. Her gaze dropped down when she heard the <em> clink </em> of his belt buckle.</p><p>“Eyes on my face.” His voice was harder, demanding. She looked at him. Stared. Met his challenge.</p><p>“I’ll fuck you until you can’t remember your name,” he promised in a low growl. “I’ll make you forget every man who ever fucked you. I’m the only one you’ll remember. After tonight, when you touch yourself and fuck yourself on your fingers, my name better be the only one you call out.”</p><p>“Sweet Circe,” slipped out of Pansy’s mouth.</p><p>He <em> tsk </em>ed at her. “Are you willing to play by my rules, Pansy?”</p><p>A shiver ran through her body. “What are the rules?”</p><p>Greg’s lips curved into a smile. “Good girl,” he said. “Always ask.”</p><p>She waited. The way he stood, feet apart and cock jutting out of his open trousers excited her, and the look on his face silently told her to be patient. </p><p><em> Good girl, </em>he had said.</p><p>Yes. She wanted to be his good girl. And she knew what that entailed.</p><p>“You listen to what I say. Do what I tell you.” He moved forward again and reached out to caress her face, her neck, her breast. “But tell me if you want to slow down. Do all of that and I’ll make tonight good for you. For both of us.”</p><p>She licked her top lip, curled her tongue over the lipstick staining her mouth.</p><p>“Do you want that, Pansy?”</p><p>She could only say, “Yes.”</p><p>Greg paused and searched her eyes for something - what, she wasn’t sure - but then he blinked and she saw the way his face hardened.</p><p>“Then get on your knees.”</p><p>Her dress was tight but the slit allowed her to drop gracefully to the floor. She spread her legs for balance and kept her back straight. Pansy held her head still while she looked up at Greg. His dick nudged at her lips and she let him push into her mouth, a slow and steady pressure, in and out in shallow thrusts. His hand went to her cheek, his thumb pushed at the corner of her mouth until she opened wider, hollowed out her cheeks.</p><p>“That’s right,” Greg said, low and hoarse. “You want more?”</p><p>Pansy gave him a slow blink of her eyes in response and Greg moved both of his hands to her head, pressing his fingers behind her ears. His hips moved forward and Pansy shut her eyes, concentrating on breathing through her nose.</p><p>“Look at me.”</p><p>Her eyes shot open to see Greg’s eye flash in approval.</p><p>“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?” He slid deeper into her mouth, felt her throat close up when she gagged. “Fuck, that’s right. That’s perfect. Your mouth is so bloody perfect, you know that?” He stared down at Pansy, reveled in the way her face was pressed up against his body, watched as her eyes watered. “Is your pussy just as good?”</p><p>She pulled away with a gasp, gulping down pockets of air, as she stared at the cock in front of her, glistening from her mouth and tongue. Her hands gripped the backs of Greg’s thighs as she leaned back. She wanted to yank down his pants. She wanted him to throw her on the bed, spread her legs, and fuck her until she couldn’t think about what she wanted anymore.</p><p>“I didn’t tell you to stop.”</p><p>Her eyes moved up - up to the muscles lined over his abdomen, up to the swirls of black and red and blue and green decorating his chest, up to the hardened gaze of his eyes.</p><p>“Did I tell you to stop?”</p><p>“N-no.” She cursed silently at the stammer in her voice.</p><p>“No, what?”</p><p>Pansy remained silent for a beat of a second. Then her lips curled up into a smile. Her heart was beating a mile a minute, it seemed, but the letters in her brain slipped and slid against each other until they formed an idea.</p><p>“No, <em> Greg </em>,” she lengthened the vowel of his name, biting at the final letter. His face darkened at her defiance and Pansy gave him a smirk. “You didn’t.”</p><p>His hand shifted and his fingers tightened in her hair. He pulled upward, forcing her to stand. Even in her heels, she barely came to his shoulder and he imagined how easy it would be to throw her against the wall, on the bed. He shook his head slightly before yanking her head backwards, stretching out her neck. Pansy let out a gasp at the sting on her scalp.</p><p>“Maybe you’re not such a good girl, after all.” He brought up his left hand to press against her neck. “Here I was, thinking you wanted this.” He walked her backwards until Pansy felt the edge of the bed at the backs of her knees. “Wanted <em> me </em> ,” Greg growled out. Pansy’s hands lifted to grasp the corded muscles of his arms. “But maybe I was wrong. <em> Maybe </em> you don’t deserve <em> this </em>.” He thrust against her body sharply.</p><p>When he took a step back, Pansy’s stomach dropped. He wouldn’t really -</p><p>“Or do you?” He released her hair but tightened the hand around her throat. He reached down and began stroking himself, letting out a grunt every time his knuckles brushed against her dress. </p><p>“Stop,” Pansy whispered. </p><p>He ignored her, instead pushed her away and down, and Pansy tumbled onto the bed. She scrambled to right herself, vaguely heard a tear when the heel of a shoe caught at the hem of her dress, but she didn’t care. Greg backed away another step, still fisting his cock, still glaring at her in a challenge.</p><p>“Greg,” she said his name in a plea. “I want-”</p><p>“I know what you <em> want </em>,” he interrupted her. “That wasn’t the question.”</p><p>Her mind was racing. Her heart was practically pounding out of her chest. Her pussy was so fucking wet, she was sure her dress was completely ruined. </p><p>“What do you think you deserve?” he asked.</p><p>Her hands clenched into fists around the white sheets beneath her. She stared at him, at the way he was hanging out of his pants, shirt hanging open around him, while he jerked himself off. His words swam around her mind and she knew what to do, knew what he wanted to see.</p><p>Slowly, almost calculatingly slow, Pansy slid off the bed until she was once again on her knees. She didn’t let go of the sheets and she felt a burn settle into her shoulders and arms as they locked into an awkward position behind her. Her tongue ran over her top lip for a moment before she let her jaw drop, tongue pressed down as much as possible.</p><p>She waited.</p><p>Greg bared his teeth at her, a feral smile that made her throat tighten up in anticipation. She didn’t move as he walked toward her again. Reaching out, he locked a hand around her chin, nudging her head back.</p><p>“Wider.”</p><p>She loosened her jaw, felt the pull in front of her ears. Greg leaned down, his face hovering over her, and then Pansy felt the large drop of saliva fall to the corner of her mouth. Before she could process anything about it, his dick was in her mouth, thrusting down until she could feel him at the back of her throat. She couldn’t help but gag, her reflexes unprepared, and she felt Greg begin to pull out.</p><p>
  <em> Fuck no. </em>
</p><p>She followed his movement, keeping her mouth around him, suctioning her lips to pull at heated flesh. </p><p>There was a pause. </p><p>A grunt. </p><p>Greg shifted above her, leaning forward until he could put his hands on top of the bed, on top of her own hands. He slid his fingers between hers, squeezed tight once, twice, and then snapped his hips forward so sharply that Pansy’s head rocked backwards. She counted to three in her head and breathed deeply through her nose, moaning when his scent surrounded her.</p><p>He was going to choke her. </p><p>He was going to break her jaw. </p><p>He was going to steal her voice with how deep he was thrusting.</p><p>“<em> Merlin </em>,” he gasped. “That’s fucking perfect. You’re fucking perfect.”</p><p>Warmth flushed through her cheeks, down her neck, at his words. Greg looked down and watched as he moved in and out of her mouth at a steady pace. When he pulled away, letting the tip of his cock rest on her bottom lip, he caught sight of her breasts, heaving with deep breaths, still caught under red fabric.</p><p>He righted himself, his hands drifting up the length of her arms. He massaged her shoulders lightly. “Sit up.” </p><p>She silently did as she was told, leaning against the bed as she dragged her body up to sit. The pressure on her shoulders, her arms, lightened. Her body shivered when his fingers walked to the top of her dress, practically dancing across her breasts. He curled his fingers around the neckline and tugged down. Pansy gasped as the dress pushed and pulled with his movements. She heard the <em> pop </em> of the zipper at her back when Greg yanked hard and the dress came loose around her chest. He pushed the fabric down until her breasts bounced slightly from being let free from the tight dress.</p><p>“Hold them.”</p><p>Once her hands were spread over them, nipples peeking out between her fingers, Greg dipped down and stood back up, sliding his cock between her breasts. Pansy looked up at him as she squeezed them together, fitting her curves around him. He was still slick from her mouth and he grunted as she stroked him between her breasts. She locked her fingers together, pressed tight, and dipped her head to swipe a tongue over the tip of him as he thrust up.</p><p>Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Greg reach toward his hand, dropped to the floor when they had first arrived. The slim piece of wood jumped into his hand, and a part of Pansy thrummed at the seemingly innocent show of power.</p><p>Between low groans, he murmured <em> diffindo </em> and Pansy froze. The spell hit her dress and slashed a line down its side. Cool air rushed over her body and her legs parted instinctively when the fabric pooled around her feet. </p><p>Again, he moved away from her a bit, letting out a curse as he slid himself out of the tight press of her breasts. He lifted his chin toward the bed and ran his left hand over his cock when she laid back at the silent command. </p><p>He took a step forward. </p><p>Another.</p><p>One more. </p><p>She heard the rustle of fabric, realized he had kicked her mangled dress away from his path to her. </p><p>Oddly enough, Pansy wondered how badly Draco would kill her for the ruined dress.</p><p>All thoughts of anyone other than Greg flew out of her mind, though, when she felt the tip of his cock nudge at her opening. He dipped in but <em> only just. </em>His thumb found her clit and he rubbed against her. </p><p>His right hand still held his wand.</p><p>“Do you trust me?” His voice was softer as he asked her the question. She furrowed her brows at him and nodded her head but he shook his head in response. “I need to hear you say it, Pansy. Do you trust me?”</p><p>“Yes,” she said without hesitation. “I trust you.”</p><p>
  <em> “Aedes Ignifera.” </em>
</p><p>Pansy’s body jerked beneath him as her eyes shut in fear. She let out a questioning cry as her eyes caught the stream of fire flowing from Greg’s wand. <em> Ignifera </em>. Her breathing quickened. She trusted him, yes, but the word brought back the memory of being told how Crabbe had died during the Battle. Fiendfyre had no business in her hotel room, during sex, during -</p><p><em> Aedes </em> , the word echoed in her mind. Her eyes flew open to find Greg watching her with a calm look on his face. The fire held steady, forming a circle that hovered above her, just off to her left. <em> Do you trust me, </em> had been his question. She took a deep breath, letting it out in a shuddering gasp, and forced herself to calm down. To her surprise, she realized she had moved slightly away from him, had moved up the bed a bit, but with each calming breath, she relaxed and let her body sink back down until she could feel his bare heat against her again.</p><p>“That’s right,” Greg practically crooned down at her and Pansy couldn’t help but arch her back up, like she was presenting herself as a gift. He brought his hand up her stomach to the dip between her breasts and splayed a hand there. He stroked the skin to calm her even more. “Just like that, Pansy. You’re doing so well.”</p><p><em> Fuck </em> but his words were echoing in her ears, over and over, and all she wanted to do was preen like a stupid peacock. She turned her head to the side and watched as Greg flicked his wand toward her stomach. She didn’t know what to expect but she trusted him. </p><p>Explicitly.</p><p>A phoenix formed from the circle of flames and dove toward her stomach. She followed its path, bracing herself, but all she felt was a skimming of heat against her skin - over and over, as the phoenix flew back and forth. With every <em> swoop </em> of the bird, the fire burned hotter until she was gasping for breath.</p><p>
  <em> “Mutesco sileo.” </em>
</p><p>Pansy felt the flames dissipate over her body, like candle wax melting over her. The remnants - tiny pieces of ash - hardened on her skin and she paused, swiping her hands over the pieces. Pansy marveled at what had just happened, what she had just experienced. Her eyes met Greg’s. </p><p>“Do it again,” she requested quietly. “Please.”</p><p>Greg’s lips moved but no sound came out as he flicked his wand again - <em> so much fucking power and control, </em>Pansy’s mind screamed - and a red-orange snake of fire burst from the tip of his wand. It slid through the air, sparking embers that caressed her body until it settled at the curve of her breast, winding around tighter and tighter until it burned against a nipple. When it slid downwards, Greg leaned forward and swiped his tongue over where the snake had just left, tugging with his teeth until Pansy let out a cry and arched up. A hand shot up to hold Greg in place as she writhed against the fire skimming down her stomach.</p><p>A keening moan left her lips at the feel of heat - heat that bordered on <em> too much </em> - wrapping around her thighs, back over her hips. Another flick of Greg’s wand sent a miniature thunderbird to her ankles where it flew around her legs, leaving ribbons of fire on her skin. Pansy no longer knew what to focus on - Greg’s teeth were leaving marks on her chest, his cock still teased at her opening, the snake was sliding back and forth on her lower stomach, dipping further south until flames bloomed between her legs. </p><p>Her breath came out in shuddered measures now. The heat from the flames was sinking into her skin until she thought she was on fire herself. Her head was thrown back, lips parted in silent screams, and Pansy wondered if she would ever be able to cool down again. She felt the muscles in her legs tense, felt the pull in her abdomen that would send her senses into overdrive. </p><p>She was burning.</p><p>Greg’s name spilled from her lips.</p><p>Tight. Every muscle in her body tightened.</p><p>
  <em> Please, please, yes. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Mutesco sileo.” </em>
</p><p>The fires melted into her skin at Greg’s command. </p><p><em> “No, no, please, so close, I’m so close,” </em> Pansy sobbed. </p><p>And then Greg pushed into her, a hard thrust that made Pansy cry out his name over and over. Greg threw his wand down on the bed, and grabbed Pansy’s hips, lifted her up, held her while he drove into her, <em> deeper, harder. </em>His body slammed against her inner thighs until they shook violently. Pansy’s hand flew out to her sides and she gripped the sheets, her knuckles turning white with the strength of her hold. </p><p>She was drowning. She felt like she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t gasp in enough air, as waves crashed over her and threatened to keep her under. She felt Greg lift one of her legs to his shoulder and felt him bring a knee to rest on the bed, right below her ass, and <em> seven fires of Hell, he was deep, so deep </em> and she wondered how long she would be able to feel him inside of her.</p><p>“Look at you,” Greg grunted. “Taking me in like this. Should see yourself.”</p><p>He shifted, brought his other knee up on the bed, and let go of her hips. He reached out and grabbed her wrists, sliding them upwards until he held them over her head. Pansy drew her other leg up and out, spreading herself for him. Greg leaned down, his teeth marking her neck, moving up from collarbone to just below her ear. </p><p>“You know just what I want, don’t you?” His voice was a hot whisper in her ear. He slowed his strokes, pulling out only to push back unhurriedly. </p><p>Pansy whimpered. </p><p>“Do you like it? Like feeling my cock?” He pressed in until their bodies were flush against each other - and then pushed some more. “Because you’re fucking perfect. You look so <em> pretty </em> laying there like this.” He circled his hips and Pansy bit her lip at the sharp pleasure-pain that raced up her spine. </p><p>“Greg,” she choked out his name, her voice cracking as he drew his hips back again, pausing until Pansy let out a whine. She undulated beneath the heavy form of his body, moaned at the slickness of their skin together. “Please.”</p><p>“Please what?” he growled into her ear. “Please fuck you? I am.” He snapped his hips sharply, drawing a cry from her lips. </p><p>“Please let you come? You already have.” He changed his pace, his thrusts growing steadily harder, the slap of their skin echoing in the room. </p><p>“But you want more, don’t you?” He bit the lobe of her ear, tightened his grip on her fingers, and drove deeper into her.</p><p>“You’re my greedy little slut, aren’t you?”</p><p>Pansy never thought she’d like that word. Ron had said it earlier and it had sent a rush of anger through her, but Greg’s voice saying it, practically crooning it into her ear, had waves of pleasure blanketing her as much as Greg’s body. Her hips moved upwards, straining to take more of him.</p><p>“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” </p><p>Greg let go of her fingers, ran his hands down her arms until they palmed the sides of her chest. He pressed down on her skin, finding shades of pinks and yellows where his fingers had already started to create imprints. </p><p>She bruised easily. </p><p>He’d take care of that. Later.</p><p>For now, he spread her thighs further apart and pulled away, let her legs drop from their positions on him, and flipped Pansy over, pushing down at the space between her shoulder blades until her forehead pressed against the bed. </p><p>“Fuck, you really <em> should </em>see yourself,” he said, tracing the path of her spine. His palm connected with her ass, making Pansy claw at the sheets, as the sharp sound of the slap rang in her ears.</p><p>“One day,” Greg promised, sliding a thumb between her cheeks, “I’m taking this.” Pansy arched her back, pushing back into his hand. “I’ll fuck you right here until you’re screaming for it.” </p><p>She let out a sound of desperation, shifting her hips to push down onto the bed, but Greg stopped her before she could rub herself along the crisp sheets. “Not yet.”</p><p>
  <em> “Please.” </em>
</p><p>“Not. Yet.” He punctuated each word with a smack across her ass before he smoothed his palms over the reddening skin.</p><p>He pulled at her hips, tilting them upwards, caging her legs between his. Greg let out a curse when he pushed back inside of Pansy, a slow stroke until his groin was against her ass. He leaned forward to grab her arms and brought them to the small of her back, crossing her wrists so he could hold them in one hand. He yanked hard and Pansy felt her upper body lift for a moment before she was face down again on the bed, screaming into the sheets. </p><p>
  <em> Fuck. </em>
</p><p>He thrust into her with abandon, and Pansy wondered if she would ever have sex like this again. </p><p>“Let me hear you.”</p><p>She didn’t know what to say. Her brain was scrambled, her mind only focused on the sweat-soaked sheets beneath her cheek, the slap of his skin against hers, the way she could feel every shift of his muscles at the backs of her thighs. She felt his hand reach below her, find her clit, and she gasped harshly at the touch, the hard pinch.</p><p>“Not a word,” he said, a touch of awe hidden in the dark tone. “Not a word from you, but you’re telling me everything.”</p><p>She tried to respond, tried to let <em> something </em> come out, but it felt impossible. <em> It was impossible. </em> His voice was low with every move he made, the combination sending her into a spiral.</p><p>A quick slap on her clit. “It’s like you were fucking made for me, for my cock.”</p><p>Her thighs felt so slick, so wet. “Can you take a little more for me, Pansy? Just a bit more?”</p><p><em> Yes, yes, yes, </em> she screamed in her mind but she was sure only nonsensical sounds came out of her mouth. He tightened his hands - one on her wrists, one at her clit - and thrust deeper, <em> so much deeper </em> and Pansy’s mouth froze in an open circle, a silent yell that made her entire body seize up.</p><p>“That’s right,” Greg grunted. “You’re mine now, aren’t you?”</p><p>She felt boneless. She wanted to sag against the bed, but the tremors racing through her made her shiver in need. It felt like pure magic was sparking over her skin, a crackling fire that wouldn’t stop being fueled.</p><p>Behind her, Greg shifted, moved the hand holding her wrists to her chest where he lifted her until she was up on her knees. He nosed her hair out of the way, used a hand to turn her face to the side, so he could find her lips.</p><p>“One more,” he breathed into her mouth. She shook her head. There was no way. Absolutely <em> no way </em> she had anything left in her. “Just one more.”</p><p>She finally found her voice. “Greg... I don’t -”</p><p>“You can,” he said. His thrusts had slowed to a leisurely glide, his body dipping and thrusting while he stroked her clit. The feather-light brushes made her twitch and she could no longer find the space that usually existed between pleasure and pain.</p><p>“Is too much,” she managed to mumble but her voice sounded lethargic to her own ears. </p><p>“Shh,” he shushed her and in the back of her mind, Pansy wondered when Greg had gone from fucking her like a madman to giving her soft, sensual touches. His voice - the tone, the way it curled around her - made a new heat form in her stomach. “You can do this, Pansy. Give me one more like a good girl.” His fingers did a <em> tap, tap, tap </em> against her pussy.</p><p>She felt unsteady but she could feel the hot coils of his touch sending secret messages over her skin, as if he could coax another orgasm out of her. Pansy leaned her body back fully against his chest and managed to disentangle her arms from between them. She brought her left hand up and around his neck, holding his head against her, while her right hand joined his where his cock was sliding into her.</p><p>“One more,” she whispered right before she surged up to kiss him, her mouth opening against his, needy and wanting. When she pulled away, she stared into his eyes for a moment, felt the heat of his gaze practically reading her mind. She pulled away slowly and leaned back down on shaky elbows. She felt Greg pause his movements behind her. “Fuck me,” she said in a near-whisper.</p><p>The touch on her back was light, soft, almost comforting. The mattress shifted beneath her as Greg slid out of her, moved away, stood up. She glanced over her shoulder to see him steady himself and mutter something beneath his breath.</p><p>Pansy let out an <em> oof </em> when he yanked her body to the edge of the bed. Her feet fell to the floor, her stomach dropped to lay flat against the bed, and then he was inside her again, filling her until she thought her bones would crack, her body would tear apart.</p><p>It was too much.</p><p>It wasn’t enough.</p><p>Pansy thought she didn’t have anything left to give, but she could feel her body answering Greg’s vicious call. She could feel him tensing with each thrust and she knew he was close <em> so close </em> and she wanted it.</p><p>“I want you to come,” she said, her voice breathless and hoarse. She felt him move faster, harder. “Please <em> please please.” </em></p><p>“Fuck,” he grunted. She tightened her muscles around him and he cursed, calling her <em> a fucking filthy tease </em>. </p><p>Pansy pushed back against him, ignoring her screaming muscles because she wanted it, <em> needed </em> it in a way she never realized.</p><p>“Inside me,” she let out in a rush.</p><p>Greg’s thrusting stuttered for a moment - so quick, Pansy wondered if she imagined it. He didn’t say anything, but brought a hand back up her spine and wrapped it around the back of her neck. His fingers squeezed in a silent question. Pansy repeated herself, louder this time and slower, so there was no question as to what she wanted. </p><p>Like he was waiting for the words, Greg lost the rhythm of his thrusts, pistoning in and out of her body frantically until he let out a low groan as he came, his cock emptying inside of her. His sounds, the fullness inside her pussy, and the pressure on her neck was too much and Pansy felt her body warm, felt her legs shake as they stretched from the bed to the floor. </p><p>When he pulled out, Pansy felt the <em> drip drip </em> down thighs and reached down to slide a finger through the wetness. Hands rolled her over as Greg made a strangled sound before he was kissing her, stretching his body over hers. Pansy moaned, letting him breathe in the sound, and she brought her hands to his waist, steadying him above her.</p><p>“Perfect,” he mumbled as he moved his lips down her neck before standing up. “You’re so fucking perfect.” </p><p>Pansy stared up at the ceiling, a smile curling on her lips. She brought her hand up to her mouth, placed her finger on her bottom lip, and licked its tip, smiling wider when she heard Greg groan as he watched her taste the both of them. </p><p>“Wicked.” Greg reached down and tugged at her waist until Pansy sat up. “You’re wicked.”</p><p>“I’m <em> dirty </em>,” Pansy said, looking down at herself. Greg chuckled above her and she rolled her eyes. “I’m ignoring that.” </p><p>She stood and went to move past Greg, but he stopped her, tilted her face up, and dipped his head to press his lips to hers. His fingers stroked her neck - <em> up down up down </em> - and Pansy wanted to melt into his chest. Instead she tapped her nails against the muscled chest and pulled away.</p><p>“I’m not kidding. I can’t take any more. Right now.” She ducked under his arm, letting her hand linger over his chest, across his ribs. “Give me a moment.”</p><p>Greg watched Pansy disappear into the bathroom and turned to his right, his left, and back again, before he leaned over the bed to reach his discarded wand. He muttered a spell and shuddered at the vibrations that went through his body with the quick cleansing spell. Walking around the room, his eyes caught a few items - a fluffy hotel robe draped over an ottoman, a collection of small potion bottles atop a dresser, jewelry scattered next to them. He picked up one of the bottles, swirling the liquid inside with a twist of his wrist.</p><p>“You know,” Pansy began as she appeared in the doorway. “I’m not entirely sure how comfortable I feel sleeping around with an Inquiry.”</p><p>Greg turned his head and let his gaze travel down Pansy’s naked body. “Skeletons in the closet?”</p><p>Pansy’s laugh was high-pitched, borderline shrill, as she walked toward him, taking the bottle back from him and putting it in its proper space once more. “<em> The Prophet </em>let those free without a second thought. I’m not sure there’s many more secrets to my life.”</p><p>When she reached down to open one of the drawers, Greg stopped her with his fingers wrapping around her wrist. She turned her face up and swallowed at the dark look in his eyes. “We all have secrets.”</p><p>Again, Pansy swallowed with a shuddering breath. “Are you staying?”</p><p>Greg watched as she slid her wrist from his grip and reached into the drawer to take out a pair of knickers. She leaned down to step into them and drew them up her legs. </p><p>“Do you want me to?”</p><p>Pansy reached up and slid her hands over his chest. “Yes.”</p><p>They settled into the bed after Pansy flicked the top sheets off. Another muttered spell cleaned the bed for them. They both laid on their back for a while, staring up at the ceiling. It could have been awkward, but it wasn’t. It was oddly relaxing and comfortable.</p><p>“Greg?”</p><p>“Hmm?”</p><p>“That spell you did.” Pansy hesitated. “It was… Was that Fiendyre?”</p><p>Silence. Pansy turned her head to see Greg’s eyes closed. She could sense him struggling.</p><p>“You don’t -”</p><p>“Yes,” he answered. “It’s a form of it.”</p><p>“I’ve never heard it before.”</p><p>Another pause, and then, “I created it.” He opened his eyes and shifted, meeting Pansy’s inquisitive stare. “After… After Vince… At Hogwarts…”</p><p>“Right,” Pansy interjected quietly. She remembered. They all remembered.</p><p>Greg cleared his throat. “I didn’t want to be some knock-off Inquiry when I went abroad. I wanted to do it as in the books as possible. Lots of training but also more free time than I knew what to do with. It was hard those first few years. On my own. And almost every time I had free time, I remembered that day with Draco and Vince. That fire. That fucking Fiendfyre. I wanted to defeat it. Own it. Make it answer to <em> me. </em>”</p><p>Turning on her side, Pansy leaned her head on a closed fist and reached out to trace the flames running up the side of his body. She could make out the shapes of an eagle owl and snake in vivid reds and yellows and oranges. </p><p>“It took months, almost a year, until I managed to alter the incantation enough for it to work.”</p><p>Pansy found the tiny Roman numerals hidden in the open mouth of a lion. II.V.MCMXCVIII. She pressed the skin around the letters.</p><p>The second of May. Nineteen-ninety-eight.</p><p>Without a word, Pans lifted up and pressed her face into Greg’s neck, leaving kisses and bite marks until Greg moved a large hand to her hip, pulling her into his side. He dragged his hand down over her thigh and hitched her leg up to rest against him.</p><p>“Go to sleep, Pansy.” It was a friendly command and when she didn’t stop tasting the skin of his jaw, he <em> tap tap tapped </em> on the back of her leg. “Be good and I’ll give you a nice wake-up call.”</p><p>He felt her lips curve into a smile. “What kind of wake-up call?”</p><p>“Go to sleep and you’ll find out.”</p><p>With a light laugh, Pansy shifted to a more comfortable position. She trailed her nails up and down his chest, memorizing his breathing pattern in case she’d never have another night with him. It took a bit of time, but she soon found herself drifting off, leaving puffs of air over Greg’s shoulder.</p><p>The last thing she remembered was feeling Greg’s hand squeeze her lightly and his lips leaving a kiss at the top of her head.</p><p>Hours later, the first thing Pansy woke up to was the soft brush of hair against her inner thighs right before a tongue licked up her cunt. She let out a soft gasp as she raised her knees, keeping her feet flat against the bed. She could practically feel Greg’s smile against her at the movement and she couldn’t help but poke at his shoulder with her foot.</p><p>“Morning, Pansy,” he managed to say before he buried his face between her legs. Pansy would have bet all of her galleons that he was spelling out what he had just said with his tongue. Greg’s hand wrapped around her thigh, palm smoothing down the plane of her stomach until he dipped his thumb into rising heat to find her clit. Greg lifted his head when he heard a whimper. “Let me hear you.”</p><p>Before Pansy could say anything, the door to her hotel room slammed open. She shrieked and fumbled for something to cover her and a white button-down flew into her face. By the time she was able to untangle it from her head and somewhat wrap it around her bare chest, Greg was kneeling on the bed, his face no longer where she wanted it.</p><p>“This cannot be happening.”</p><p>“Draco?” Pansy said her best friend’s name in confusion. She slowly slid her arms into the shirt, immediately smelling Greg’s cologne from the night before. “What are you doing in here?”</p><p>“I knew you couldn’t be trusted,” Draco said in a low tone, shaking his head from side-to-side.</p><p>“What are you going on about?” Pansy demanded. </p><p>He couldn’t be talking about Greg, could he? But when she looked at Greg, he had a smirk on his face as he looked at Draco. She turned her head and tilted it in confusion before pulling her lips into her mouth to try to stop herself from laughing.</p><p>Draco stood in her room, staring down at the pile of red fabric on the floor. Next to it, a small tray and biscuits were spilled. As if in slow motion, Draco nudged his foot into the fabric and let out a long breath when he saw the rips.</p><p>“All of my hard work finding this perfect dress for you. And now it’s ruined.” He turned accusing eyes to her, not caring that she was half-naked. “Why do you do this to me?”</p><p>Pansy let out a peal of laughter - one Draco hadn’t heard in a long time, if he was being honest. She closed the shirt over her chest with two buttons and leered at Draco playfully. </p><p>“Well,” she said. “It did its job, didn’t it?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Um. JKR owns this whole HP franchise and I'm not making money off of this. That's all.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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